


Girl With A Gun

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 22:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7289194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is the one in trouble this time, much to River's delight. She agrees to rescue him... for a price. A fluffy one-shot with some River/Eleven cuteness. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girl With A Gun

**Author's Note:**

> In order to have a break from all the depressing stuff I've written recently (both fanfic and original work), I've gone ahead and written this shamelessly fluffy story. Thank you to seriesluvr for beta-ing, and I hope you all enjoy it!

“Well, _this_ is certainly a new one,” she says, and he can tell she’s trying her hardest not to laugh at him and not entirely succeeding.

“It’s not funny, River!” he protests, because _really_ , this situation is not at all amusing and she shouldn’t have that expression on her face that means she’s thinking he’s the biggest idiot in the world—but she still loves him for it.

“Oh, it is, and you know it.” She smirks. “Don’t make that face at me, sweetie. I think you look rather… _appealing_ , tied up like that. Really does things to a woman, you know.”

“River, this is _not_ the time for flirting. I’m scheduled to be executed in less than half an hour!”

“You’ve saved the world in less time,” she points out. “Really, my love, this should be easy for you. Just sonic yourself out; works every time, doesn’t it?”

He grits his teeth, knowing what she wants him to admit. She arches an eyebrow (he’s struck by the thought that only River Song can make that action both utterly infuriating and still completely sexy) and places one hand on her hip expectantly.

“Well, Doctor?”

The Doctor blurts it out as quickly as he can, wanting to get it over as quickly as possible.

“Sorry, I’m afraid I didn’t catch that. Would you mind repeating it slowly?” Oh, and he could just kill her for her expression right now.

“It. Doesn’t. Work. On. Rope,” he forces out between clenched teeth, every word torturous as her knowing smirk grows wider.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” She really has no right to look so pleased with herself, he thinks with a glower. “Now, are you going to beg me to save you, or is your head going to be on the chopping block in twenty minutes?”

“ _Rivah!_ ” Surely she’s not serious.

“The choice is yours, sweetie.”

“You’re not really going to make me beg, are you?” There’s a slight childlike whine in his voice.

She grins. “What fun would it be if I didn’t?”

He says the first thing that comes to mind. “I hate you.”

Her response is automatic. “No, you don’t.”

“Sometimes I really think I do, you bloody infuriating woman,” he mutters under his breath, low enough so that she can’t hear it. Well, he hopes she can’t hear it—River does have a habit of not-so-accidentally hearing things she shouldn’t.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, dear,” he says innocently, because two can play at this game.

“What did you say? I know it was about me,” she guesses.

“Lucky guess.” That only piques her interest more, which is exactly his intention. He’s in desperate need of some leverage if he’s going to escape this situation with his dignity intact. So he smiles and says, “Not telling.”

“Please?” she asks hopefully.

He grins. “Who’s the one begging now?”

“River Song never begs,” she claims.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Last night certainly sounded like begging to me.”

She harrumphs. “Yes, well, _that_ was different.”

He continues. “In fact, I distinctly remember you calling out my name. What was it you said? Oh, yes—“

He’s interrupted by River, who has flushed to a shade slightly reminiscent of a tomato (which the Doctor wisely refuses to point out, knowing she’d murder him for doing so).

“Shut up.”

“You weren’t so shy about it last night,” he points out, rather enjoying teasing her until she levels the blaster at him.

“Rule One, sweetie. Never taunt a girl with a gun.”

“That’s not Rule One!”

“My Rule One is better.”

“It most definitely is _not_ ,” he huffs, and would have continued his tirade if not for River’s finger on the trigger. She wouldn’t actually do it… would she? Then again, this is River he’s talking about. She is indeed the woman who married him—but not without murdering him first. Twice.

“Do you want to get out of here alive, Doctor, or do you really want to waste your last regeneration on this?”

“Alive would be preferable,” he admits.

“I thought so.” From somewhere in her dress—he doesn’t even want to imagine where… or perhaps he does—she pulls out a knife and begins sawing through the rope.

“Can’t you hurry?” he complains after a few minutes have gone by. “My execution is scheduled for… oh, three minutes or so from now.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to be complaining,” she retorts, and at last finishes with the last of the rope. “There, you’re free. For the time being.”

He blanches, hoping she doesn’t mean what he thinks she does. “You are _not_ tying me up again when we get back to the TARDIS.”

River smiles. “We’ll see about that.”

***

“So, what was it that you said earlier?” she wonders once they’ve recovered sufficiently from their adventure.

“Do you want the truth or the sappy romantic version?”

“Sappy romantic version, please.” She’s in an especially good mood tonight; she feels young and happy and for once she is not worried about the timelines. And besides—though she’ll never admit it—she does love the cheesy romantic things he says to her.

“Okay.” He takes a moment to compose his speech in his mind. “What I said was, River Song, you are absolutely gorgeous and the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

He finishes with a quick peck to her lips, after which she pauses and looks at him sidelong.

“What did you really say?”

“That you’re bloody infuriating sometimes,” he admits, and she gives him a little slap.

River laughs, a sound he’s come to love in the past years. “Oh, and who are you to comment?”

“All right, all right.” He holds up his hands. “I surrender.”

“You’d better. I am, after all, queen of the universe. Bow down before me.”

“You’re only a goddess on _one_ planet, River, don’t go getting a big head about it!” Privately, he thinks she really _is_ a goddess—his goddess. To him, she will always be sacred. She will always be beautiful.

“Oh? And I suppose you think that since you’re a Time _Lord_ , you’re the one in charge here?” she asks in an innocent tone.

“That’s right, dear.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetie. We both know who’s _really_ in control.” She smiles and then, to his amazement, giggles. Actually, properly giggles. It’s a sound he never thought her capable of producing, but, like everything about her, he loves it.

They sit in silence for a while, just enjoying the feeling of being together, before he speaks again.

“I love you, River.”

She smirks, incapable of passing up this chance.

“I know.”


End file.
